


a royal engagement

by ladydetective



Series: Roisa Fic Week Summer 2017 [1]
Category: Jane the Virgin (TV), The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Movie AU, Roisa Fic Week Summer 2017, background jetra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 08:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11459460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydetective/pseuds/ladydetective
Summary: Luisa Alver had always wanted to be a princess, then she decided she'd actually prefer to be a doctor.Of course, then she found out that she was actually a Princess, and had a month to meet and marry someone or the attractive redhead that she really shouldn't have feelings for is going to steal her throne.





	a royal engagement

**Author's Note:**

> So this ended up being. . . quite a bit longer than planned. Oops?  
> It's an AU of the second movie, and some of the character from that movie do make an appearance but it's not necessary to have seen it.   
> Enjoy! Please consider leaving a comment and good luck to everyone participating in the week!

When Luisa was a little girl, she wanted to be a princess. She’d watched princess movies obsessively, and owned a large collection of dresses, which her parents had always had a hard time convincing her to change out of. Her mother had laughed indulgently and bowed accordingly when her little girl had declared herself the princess of the realm, but there had always been something a little strained about it. Young Luisa had never picked up on it, but it was something she remembered in retrospect.

She’d been wearing a princess dress the day her mother had died. It had been late at night, and her father had been trying to wrangle her out of it and into pyjamas when they’d gotten the call. They’d rushed to the hospital, and Luisa had been told to wait outside by a frantic team of nurses as her father went in to see her mother. She hadn’t understood what was happening, and had worked herself into quite a state by the time a doctor had come out to check on her.

The doctor had been a woman, but what had surprised Luisa the most was that she had looked like her. She’d had the same colour skin, and kind eyes. She didn’t look like one of the princesses in Luisa’s movies, but she behaved like one. She’d sat down next to a crying Luisa on the floor and had taken her hand.

‘That’s a very pretty dress you’re wearing,’ she’d said.

‘Thank you,’ Luisa had sniffed, ‘I want to be a princess when I grow up.’

The doctor had smiled at her then, but the smile quickly dimmed. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Luisa, but I’m afraid that your _mamá_ has passed away.’

‘W-what does passed away mean?’ Asked Luisa, confusion evident in her young voice.

‘It means she’s gone to live with the angels, _princesa_.’

‘Oh,’ said Luisa, turning it over in her mind. ‘But when is she coming back?’

The doctor’s voice saddened, and said, ‘I’m afraid she’s not coming back.’

The truth of what had happened finally seemed to hit Luisa then, and she began to cry in earnest. The doctor did not try to stop her tears, but she did try to comfort the girl. She whispered soothing words to her, trying to make her feel better.

No words could have made Luisa feel totally better, but the comforting words of the other woman did seem to temporarily lift her spirits. It was a memory that Luisa would carry with her for a long time, because it was then that Luisa decided that she no longer wanted to be a princess – instead, she wanted to be a doctor.

Luisa began applying herself to the process of becoming a doctor with vigour. As a child, this meant a lot of “doctoring” her stuffed animals and other toys, which she would then proudly display to her father, who would in turn smile and tell her that her _mamá_ would be proud of her smart girl.

She didn’t grow out of her desire to be a doctor as she grew older, but rather began to apply herself to it more seriously. She worked hard in school, knowing that she would need top grades in order to get into med-school. By sixteen, she’d been on track to get them, too.

But then she’d discovered she was an actual princess.

_Apparently_ , her mother had been a member of a royal family in some minor European country she’d never even heard of – she’d had to look up Genovia on a map after that first fateful meeting with the grandmother she’d never met – and had been far enough down the line of succession that she’d been allowed to come to America and follow her heart. However, her mother’s older brother – Luisa’s _uncle_ – had recently died, leaving Luisa as the _direct heir to an entire country_.

Her grandmother had wanted her to move to Genovia and immediately begin her training to become queen, but Luisa put her foot down. She had friends in America, dreams and aspirations that she wasn’t willing to abandon. The older woman had reluctantly conceded, allowing that it seemed cruel to uproot her granddaughters’ entire life.

Luisa went to Genovia on vacation the summer she graduated high school, and had fallen in love with the country. It was beautiful – expanses of green, a lush Mediterranean climate, some of the nicest and most friendly people she’d ever encountered – and okay, maybe she could see herself settling down here, one day. But first, she wanted to be a doctor.

That had involved _another_ fight with her grandmother – she hadn’t objected to Luisa going to college – as a matter of fact, she supported it, but she’d wanted her to study politics and international relations or something else suitably boring. Luisa was sure it would come in useful as queen, but it wasn’t something she wanted to do.

Once again, her grandmother had relented. Luisa had done her Bachelor’s Degree in Harvard, then gone on to do her five years in medical school. She would have loved to have done her residency, but knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid her responsibilities any longer – her grandmother was starting to get on a bit, and would not be able to continue with full royal duties for much longer. Luisa reluctantly agreed that it was time to begin her training.

‘Everyone give a cheer for the graduating class of 2017!’  Announced the valedictorian, as the graduates each threw their caps into the air amidst the cheers of the crowd. Luisa considered said crowd, and was thrilled to see her family there, all looking so happy for the occasion. Her father looked like he couldn’t be more proud, Rafael had managed to muster up a happy smile, and her friend Jane was there with girlfriend Petra in tow, both clapping enthusiastically. Even her grandmother seemed happy for her, though she may have disapproved of her choices.

_I guess it’s time to go and be Queen_ , thought Luisa with some apprehension.

* * *

 

Luisa felt more nervous than she probably should have as she stood outside the grand ballroom, ready to make her big entrance. She’d barely had time to breath and take it all in since she’d landed in Genovia – she’d been carted off to Paolo for prep with nary a second to catch her breath, never mind take in the sights. He did do a good job, though – he’d managed to remove any visible signs of jetlag from her face with whatever magic he’d managed to work, and her dress was spectacular. It was a deep, royal purple – to symbolise her status, apparently – with beautiful silver embroidery in the traditional ballroom style. She really did look like the princess she once wished to be.

How bad could this be, really? She was meeting her people. They’d have to accept her, right? And surely the royals from other kingdoms would know the position that she was in. It was tradition for the royal being presented to dance with every eligible bachelor who wished to do so, but her grandmother – likely eager to avoid another confrontation, though it was possible she was genuinely accepting – had made an exception, and claimed she must dance with every bachelor _ette_ instead. Luisa amused herself by imagining her usually staid and unflappable grandmother going toe to toe with every spoiled royal prince, insisting that her granddaughter would be breaking with tradition and not dancing with them.

The doors were finally thrown open and a loud, clear voice proclaimed, ‘And announcing, Luisa Mignonette Alver-Renaldi, Princess of Genovia.’

Luisa took a breath, and made her debut. She prepared herself to force a smile, but then the crowd cheered. They seemed so genuine in their applause, so legitimately happy to see their princess – and future queen – restored to them after a period of uncertainty that Luisa felt there was no need to fake it. She smiled brightly, and waved to the people in the room.

Luisa was accorded several minutes to get her bearings before the volley of dance partners began to arrive. Some were good, and Luisa could see herself maybe spending a little more time with them, but others . . . not so much. One woman, bless her, seemed perfectly nice, but spoke only Greek. Luisa was pretty good at languages – she spoke English and Spanish fluently, and learned smatterings of French and German in school – but sadly, no Greek. It made the encounter somewhat . . . awkward. Another one had stood on her feet throughout the entirety of the dance. Her toes still felt a little numb. Yet another partner – Princess Jacqueline – couldn’t have been more than twelve. She was adorable, but Luisa had to decline her offer for a kiss – it would have been just a _little_ weird.

One thing was for sure – if she’d known years ago that there were this many gay princesses, she may never have given up wanting to be one.

It did become overwhelming, after a while. The constant attention – not to mention the spinning that was involved in the dancing – was beginning to make her a little dizzy. There was food on the table over there – it was more fancy than what she was used to – but she’d take it.

As she was making her way over, she collided with a person coming in the opposite direction. Luisa stumbled momentarily, but righted herself, and looked up to apologise to the person. She stopped short when she saw their face – she was beautiful.

She wore a red dress – a similar cut and style to Luisa’s own – and it gave her an excellent view of the woman’s ample cleavage. She tore her eyes away from that general area, knowing that it was dangerous territory when she was meant to be focusing on important matters of state, but found that the woman’s face was no less distracting.

Her eyes were a beautiful blue – they reminded Luisa of the ocean – and her hair was a fiery red and _oh_ , this was bad. This was very bad. Luisa wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on anything all night.

‘Um . . .’ said Luisa, rather stupidly. She blinked rapidly, trying to regain some of her usual neurological function. ‘. . . Would you like to dance?’ _Oh_ , thought Luisa. _That hadn’t been what I was trying to say._

Bizarrely, the woman agreed. They took each other’s hands – Luisa’s heart soared at the electric current that seemed to pass over her body when their hands touched – and made their way over to the dance floor.

As with all the others, there was conversation to be had while the dance was ongoing. Unlike the others, however, Luisa felt acutely nervous.

‘So,’ said Luisa, rather unnecessarily, ‘I’m Luisa.’

The redhead laughed – damn, she was pretty when she did that – and said, ‘Yeah, I know. It’s kind of hard not to, given that it’s your party and that you’re the newly returned princess of the realm, and everything. I’m Rose.’ Rose had reasons of her own for knowing who Luisa was – deeply personal ones – though it was getting harder and harder to remember them with each second she spent in the princess’s company. She really was entrancing – it wasn’t common for Rose to become distracted like this, so it was a sensation that she was wholly unprepared for.

Luisa nodded, finally smiling a little more naturally instead of in the almost manically excited way she had been before. ‘I’m sorry for banging into you. I was feeling a little overwhelmed.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Rose, ‘You can bang me anytime.’ Luisa raised an eyebrow at the other woman’s comment, and Rose blinked, realising what she had just said. _What was happening to her?_ ‘INTO me. You can bang INTO me anytime.’

Luisa laughed – a light, melodious sound – and both women found themselves falling further into the danger zone.

The song ended then – quicker than either would like – and they found themselves reluctantly pulling apart. Tradition dictated that Luisa was permitted only one dance with every eligible bachelorette, and Luisa thought that her grandmother may just have an aneurysm if so broke tradition any more this night.

‘So . . .’ said Luisa, ‘I’ll guess I’ll see you around?’

Rose nodded. ‘You can count on it.’

Luisa walked away first, not trusting herself to stay next to the other woman any longer. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice that she was about to bang into another woman until it had already happened.

The impact caused Luisa’s crown to fall from her head and clatter onto the floor. She’d try not to see that as a metaphor. The woman – she was older that Rose, perhaps by twenty years, but was striking in her own way – knelt over and picked it up. ‘Here you go,’ she said, handing it back to Luisa. ‘You’d better keep good hold of that. You never know – someone might steal it.’ She laughed then, as if to prove her idea nonsensical, but it was too high, too sharp.

Luisa smiled at her in an effort to be polite, but it was the first time that night that it felt truly forced. She walked away without interacting any more with the other woman, and missed her next words.

‘Someone like me.’

* * *

 

Luisa didn’t think she’d ever get used to the near-constant presence of servants. The two women now in her _employ_ – god, it felt weird to even say it – had told her so contritely that her suite wasn’t ready yet, as if they were afraid of her reaction. What kind of person had they worked for before they came to her? Luisa had reassured them that it was fine, and that she was looking forward to exploring the castle while waiting for her grandmother to get out of the parliament meeting.

Which was true – she felt like a child in a candy store. There was so much to do, so many nooks and crannies to explore. She doubted that she’d want to spend time in her suite even if it had been ready.

Currently, she was admiring statues in some kind of gallery room – she didn’t even want to ask why they had a gallery room, but she was kinda glad they did. Since she technically owned it now, there was no-one who could scold her for touching the statues, a life-long ambition of hers. As she ran her hand across that of one of the statues, she heard a satisfying click from somewhere behind her.

She turned and – _oh my god, it’s a secret passage. I’m living in Hogwarts!_

Feeling like a child again, Luisa moved eagerly into the passage, excited to see where it would take her. The passage had an extraordinarily low ceiling and even Luisa, short as she was, was forced to duck her head to be able to walk properly. It also seemed to go on forever, like some kind of tunnel complex.

After several minutes, Luisa began to hear other voices emanating from the other side of the tunnel – they seemed close, closer than they should be if separated by a thick wall. She began searching for some kind of hole, and eventually found a grate that looked out on . . . hey, that was the Parliament Chamber!

She leaned in closer, eager to see what was occurring almost despite herself. The idea of sitting in on Parliament meetings didn’t particularly appeal to her, but there was something exciting about it when she was doing it in secret. She could see her grandmother, seated in the centre of the room, staring down at the members of Parliament – almost all of whom were male, she noticed with no small amount of distaste. When she became Queen, that would be the first thing she’d change.

‘. . . I am sorry your Majesty, but it is an undeniable fact that Genovian law states that a Princess must marry before she is crowned Queen.’

To her grandmother’s credit, the older woman seemed genuinely flabbergasted by this news. She spluttered indignantly for a moment – a most unqueenly gesture – before composing herself and saying, quite primly but with a dangerous edge to her voice, ‘Excuse me, but would you care to repeat that?’

The man gulped, but did repeat his statement. This time, he was corroborated by several other members of Parliament. Then, a woman – the sole woman in the crowd of men – stood up. Luisa realised with a start that it was the woman that she had knocked into the previous night, the one that had given her such an uneasy impression.

‘With all due respect, your Majesty,’ said the women in a deeply disrespectful tone of voice, ‘But many of us doubt that the Princess Luisa is the correct choice to rule our fair nation. She has not lived in Genovia, and has proved herself to have a thoroughly . . . _modern_ ,’ her face wrinkled with distaste at the word, ‘opposition to our traditions. The fact that she is unmarried is merely one of many reasons that she should not take the throne.’

Luisa felt her good mood take an instant hit. The problem was, she had _already_ been doubting her ability to be a successful Queen. She had _already_ thought about a lot of the woman’s doubts, but hearing those same doubts played back at her by another person was jarring, and served only to magnify them tenfold.

Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. ‘And what alternative would you suggest, Elena? Luisa is the candidate with royal blood. There is no other.’

‘Ah,’ said Elena, her mouth slowly rising into a smirk, ‘But there is. My stepdaughter, Lady Ruvelle. While it is true that her blood is not as strong as the Princess’s, I believe that she will make an acceptable candidate. She has lived in Genovia all her life, and understands its people and traditions.’

‘It is my understanding that your stepdaughter is also unmarried,’ replied another member of Parliament.

Elena waved a hand dismissively and said, ‘That can be easily rectified.’

‘Indeed it can,’ said the presiding judge with a guilty look to the queen, ‘But should we not offer the heir to the throne the same opportunity? I propose that we give the princess Luisa one year to find a suitable groom. Or,’ he corrected himself looking somewhat sheepish, ‘A bride, rather.’

The room erupted into a cacophony of conversation. Some seemed in favour of this proposition, but the vast majority were against. And firmly against it, at that. ‘Your majesty,’ shouted one man above the din, ‘Surely you understand how dangerous it is for the fate of the kingdom to be left in the balance for so long? A year is a dreadfully long time – anything could happen. Should anything happen to your royal person, your majesty, Genovia could be left without a stable monarch. No, I must insist that if it is necessary for the Princess Luisa to marry – which our tradition demands – that she do so within one month.’

It was all over after that. Her grandmother tried to argue in Luisa’s favour – tried to tell them that an arranged marriage was ridiculous in this day and age – but it all boiled down to nothing. Parliament didn’t want to listen, and the Queen could not force them to if they were united against her.

Luisa didn’t stay long, after that. She climbed numbly out of the passage and back in to the gallery room. She slid onto the floor, and put her head into her hands, breathing deeply. _How did it all go downhill so fast? Who was she going to marry at the end of the month._

‘I take it that you have already heard the news,’ said a voice approaching from in front of her. The softness of the tone contrasted with the matter-of-factness of the words. Luisa looked up – it was her grandmother.

‘An arranged marriage? I’m meant to have an arranged marriage?’

The older woman looked to the ground, something like shame appearing in her eyes. ‘I know. I know. I’m sorry, Luisa. I wish there was some other way. But,’ she said, uncertainty appearing in her voice, ‘my own marriage was arranged. I became very fond of your grandfather.’

Luisa was sure that was true, but it just wasn’t what she’d wanted. Pretty dresses and a crown wasn’t all she’d dreamed of as a child – Princess Charming had been there, too. ‘I know and I’m sorry, _abuela_ , but I’ve always dreamed of love, not fondness.’

Clarisse nodded sadly. ‘You do not have to do this. I know that I have always made it seem like you do, but you don’t. You could return to America, finish your training to become a Doctor. Elena may be a power-hungry piece of work, but she did present you with another option. This stepdaughter, this . . . _Lady Ruvelle_. I can’t say that I have heard much of her, but there is no reason that she cannot make a fine Queen.’

Luisa spared a glance at the room around her. Her grandmother’s offer was tempting. _So tempting_. Becoming a doctor is all that she’d ever wanted to do, ever since that fateful day. She was about to accept her Grandmother’s offer – the answer had been on the very tip of her tongue – but then she spotted the portrait.

It was a large oil painting of her mother. She looked almost exactly as Luisa had remembered – the same kind eyes, the same wide smile, visible even through the heavy layers of oil paint. It must have been painted shortly before her mother left for the states. Beside the portrait of her mother, there were dozens more like it, each depicting a different royal, some of which seemed to date as far back as five hundred years. This was such a huge legacy – could she really abandon it?

A memory hit her then – something she hadn’t thought of in years. She’d been watching a movie with her mother, and had been confused as to why one of the characters was acting in the way that they were. She’d asked her mother that, and the woman had laughed and smiled fondly at her daughter. ‘Sometimes, Luisa,’ she’d said, ‘Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the belief that something is more important than fear.’

Luisa hadn’t really understood what she’d meant at the time, but thought that she might have an inkling now. She was certainly afraid – she’d been afraid of becoming Queen even before that disastrous parliament meeting, and the feeling was only stronger now. But maybe this – duty to her family, to its legacy, to herself – was more important.

Luisa stood up straight, squared her shoulders and said, in a voice as authoritative and queenly as she could muster, ‘There are over 500 years of Renaldis on this wall. I want my chance to make a difference as Queen.’

Clarisse had never looked more proud than she had at that moment.

* * *

 

Several miles away, in a resplendent country château, Elena briefed her stepdaughter on the events of the Parliament meeting.

‘Did they fall for it?’ Asked the redhead, an eager lilt to her voice.

‘Hook, line and sinker,’ crowed Elena. ‘Most of them were so eager to do away with the American brat that they would have bought in to any possible alternative. Of course,’ she shrugged, ‘We’ll have to wait a month and see if she manages to find someone to marry – I doubt it, she seems flighty – and then we can begin planning your coronation. You, my darling, shall be Queen.’

Rose smiled. This was most excellent news. Both Rose and Elena had been putting threads in motion for years to make this work – Elena had been talking to her associates in Parliament, slowly and carefully whispering in their ears, placing doubts about the future of the Renaldi line. Rose, meanwhile, had focused on public perception – making sure she was seen with all the right people, doing all the right things – all to ensure that the media was brought to her side.

Rose was in no doubt of what Elena wanted out of the alliance – that much was obvious. It was highly unlikely that the woman was doing this out of the goodness of her heart, as much as she may simper and suck up to her stepdaughter. No, Rose was sure that Elena wanted the power and prestige of becoming a queenmaker. _And_ , she admitted reluctantly, _she has been an enormous help to me. I doubt I could avoid granting it to her, or she could begin sowing the seeds of my downfall as easily as she did the Renaldi’s._

It was almost a shame that she’d have to get rid of Luisa to take the throne. There had been something about the other woman – something entrancing, something that pulled Rose in and rendered her almost weak with desire – that she wanted to hold onto. In any other situation, the dynamic between them would be worth exploring.

But Rose had a mission – she was going to be Queen. And for that to happen, Luisa needed to be out of the way.

* * *

 

‘But why do they have to come here?’ Asked Luisa with a petulant whine.

Clarisse sighed. ‘Because, Luisa, I invited them here. We need to present a united front – to show that there are no hostilities amongst Genovia’s royal family.’

But there are hostilities,’ Luisa pointed out, ‘They’re trying to steal the throne.’

‘Yes,’ Clarisse acknowledged, ‘But remember the saying, dear: keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.’

Luisa sighed with resignation. ‘Fine. I get it. They have to come. I don’t have to be happy about it – I saw Elena in that meeting – she was ecstatic when Parliament turned against you. And the stepdaughter – I bet she’s every bit as rude and arrogant as . . .’

‘Have you met her?’ Her grandmother interrupted.

‘Well . . .no.’

Clarisse nodded. ‘Well, then. Reserve your judgement, if you please. And comport yourself with grace and poise. They will be here momentarily.’

Almost as soon as she said that, the herald at the door announced that both the Ladies Ruvelle had arrived.

Elena entered the room first – she walked arrogantly, a fake smile plastered all over her face. She bowed to Clarisse – as was expected when encountering a reigning monarch – but merely inclined her head towards Luisa, meeting her in the eye not once.

The younger Lady Ruvelle entered the room next, and Luisa’s jaw dropped. It was Rose. Rose was Lady Ruvelle. Rose was the person trying to steal her throne. She looked as beautiful as she had the night of the ball – instead of a formal dress, she wore a casual suit, tailored to fit her body down to the very last curve and _dammit, Luisa! You shouldn’t be so attracted to the woman trying to steal your throne!_

Rose bowed respectfully to Clarisse, as her stepmother had done before her, but then deviated from the mould Elena had set by turning her full attention to Luisa. She smirked, the expression so genuinely amused that it reached her eyes.

Luisa normally was not prone to anger – she abhorred physical conflict and would normally go to great lengths to avoid it – but the past few days had been something of an emotional roller-coaster and she had reached her boiling point. A butler standing beside Luisa was holding a pitcher of water on a tray – presumably ready to serve to the guests once introductions had been made. Luisa reached over and took one and, without thinking of the possible ramifications of what she was about to do, threw the water at Rose.

She did not wait to see the aftermath, leaving the room in her first royal storm out.

* * *

 

Her grandmother found her in the kitchens almost an hour later. Clarisse had been left to sooth the ruffled feathers – it had not been an easy job – Elena had been particularly unpleasant, while young Rose had demonstrated that her temper was just as fiery as her hair. But Clarisse was a big girl – she had plenty of experience handling people far more dangerous than a pair of petty power-grabbers. It was her granddaughter she was far more concerned about – Luisa was sweet-tempered by nature, and only something genuinely distressing could cause her to have such an adverse reaction.

She was currently making her way through a large tub of ice-cream, and it looked like she had managed to make a rather large dent in it, too. Clarisse cleared her throat, trying to catch her granddaughter’s attention. ‘As a former medical student,’ she said, in a voice as gentle as she could muster, ‘Shouldn’t you be aware that that much ice-cream is bad for you?’

‘Yeah,’ Luisa said glumly, with her mouth full, ‘but it is delicious.’

Clarisse barely repressed a smile. She was so much like her mother, that one. It was a little disconcerting, at time, but it was nice to have a part of Mia still with her. ‘Fair enough. Do you feel like sharing?’

Luisa scrunched up her nose in a pretend manner, to give the impression that she was genuinely considering refusing the offer, before smiling and handing an extra spoon to her grandmother.

They ate peacefully for several minutes, talking idly about nothing in particular. It was nice – it reminded Luisa of the times they spent together in the States, simply getting to know one another before arguments about the crown began to come between them.

It could not last forever, however. After some time, Clarisse put down her spoon and looked her granddaughter in the eye and said, not unkindly, ‘So, would you care to tell me the reasoning behind your display with the Ruvelles? You seemed fine before they came in, but as soon as they did so you seemed to . . . snap.’

Luisa sighed and took a deep breath. ‘I’d already met Rose. That night at the ball – we’d danced together. I _really_ liked her – like, _really_ liked her – but she never told me her last name. Then I go and find out that she’s the one trying to take the crown from me? It just doesn’t seem. . . fair. I’m sorry. Did I make things a lot worse for you?’

Clarisse shook her head. ‘It was nothing I can’t handle. Now, as a Queen, I couldn’t possibly condone your actions, but as a grandmother I say. . . right on.’

Luisa smiled, then broke into a peal of laughter. After a second, Clarisse gave up her attempt to remain stoic and joined her.

‘Now,’ said Clarisse, wiping away a tear of mirth, ‘Now that all of that is out of the way, I believe that your suite is ready. Would you like to go and see?’

* * *

 

So, okay, her suite was kind of amazing. It was fancier than that of any hotel room she’d ever stayed in – which was saying a lot, since her father _owned_ one – and she’d get to live in this. Potentially forever, if she did in fact become Queen. She flopped back onto the bed, and let out an involuntary moan. It was _so soft_ – almost like she was lying on a cloud. Her grandmother chuckled, though she tried to hide it.

‘When you are quite ready,’ she said, ‘I believe that you will want to look through there.’ She clicked a button on the remote in her hand, and a door at the edge of the room opened.

Luisa got off the bed curiously, and stepped into the closet. _Wow_ – this was _a lot_. The room itself was almost bigger than her entire suite in the Marbella, and contained just about every item of clothing imaginable. Rows upon rows of sunglasses, shoes, jewellery, fantastic dresses, beautiful suits . . . she’d never need to go shopping again.

Her grandmother had even taken the liberty of having some of the Genovian crown jewels brought down and displayed – they really were beautiful. The crown really did look heavy, though.

‘Now, my dear, why don’t you try over there?’ She hinted with a smile on her face, pointing in the direction of an as-of-yet unexplored closet on the opposite corner of the room. The clothes it contained seemed a little drab in comparison to the actual crown jewel, but then her grandmother did have weird taste, so she made her way over and began thumbing the fabrics gently. They were nice and –

OH MY GOD.

Two pairs of hands emerged from the closet, followed quickly by their corresponding bodies. Very familiar bodies they were too – Jane and Petra!

There was a lot of screaming after that, followed by a series of loud rapid-fire questions, none of which Clarisse could catch. She’d have to take her headache medication after this, she thought, but then again, it was worth it to see Luisa so happy.

After several minutes of surprised shrieking – which was reciprocated by the two girls – Luisa calmed down enough to casually remark with a smirk on her face, ‘I thought you guys had already come out of the closet? Or was that party for a different reason.’

They hit her.

* * *

 

‘Now ladies,’ Clarisse said in a voice that was deadly serious to the three assembled women, ‘We are on a mission. It may not be a mission that we are eager to carry out, but it is one that must be done. I’m sure that Luisa has told you by now, but to debrief – in one month, Luisa is to be married. We must find her an acceptable wife. The royal advisors have provided a list of suitable candidates – each of them high born and with excellent reputations – and it is up to us to narrow it down.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Let’s begin, shall we? There is also popcorn available, if you feel like it.’

What Luisa really felt like was a drink. This was going to be . . . difficult. Looking at faces with scant pieces of information beside them on a screen with her grandmother in the room was not how she imagined she’d meet her future wife. At least Jane and Petra were here – with them by her side, at least she could pretend it was some odd form of Tinder that only catered to really upper class lesbian and bi women.

Better get the show on the road, she guessed. She signalled to Joe – who was sitting in the corner of the room with a remote in hand and looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else – she could relate – and told him to begin.

‘Baroness Johanna Klimpt,’ read Luisa as the first name appeared on the screen. Apparently, the woman enjoyed foxhunting as well as taxidermy, and in the accompanying picture she gripped a rifle threateningly. Not appealing.

‘Not appropriate as she is a compulsive gambler,’ interceded Clarisse. _Well thank god for that_.         

The next option was Princess Wilhelmina – commonly referred to as Princess Mina – of the United Kingdom. Luisa raised an eyebrow – the young princess was very popular in the States, and Luisa remembered getting a poster with her on it out of a magazine when she’d been young. She may or may not have kept that poster on her wall for years afterwards.

She turned to Petra and Jane – both of whom looked equally impressed with this option, each having sported similar posters in their youths, and said, ‘I think I can see this working out, don’t you?’ She added a wink for effect.

Her grandmother chuckled, and said, ‘Regrettably, Princess Wilhelmina is not eligible as she is in line for her own crown. I can see about sending her an invitation to any future balls, however, if you do so wish to meet her.’

Luisa pouted. ‘Why was she even on the list, then?’

‘She is dreadfully nice to look at.’

They continued to make their way through the list. Some of the options seemed truly dreadful – one of them was Princess Jacqueline, who was still twelve years old – and another was approaching her seventieth birthday.

‘No, no, no,’ said Clarisse, standing up. ‘We need someone titled, someone who can help you run the country without ego getting in the way. Someone attractive, smart – but not arrogant – someone with compassion. . .’

‘Someone like that?’ Asked Luisa, pointing to the face that had just popped up on the screen. Susanna Barnett, Duchess of Kennilworth. She was the same age as Luisa, and was certainly very attractive – her hair was long and a pretty shade of blonde, and in the picture she wore a military training uniform which revealed powerful muscles. According to the information on the side, she’d just finished up her tour with the British military and was ready to settle back into civilian life.

‘Exactly like that! Excellent choice, Luisa!’

‘She looks. . . nice.’ Luisa supposed that she wouldn’t mind meeting her. She may even grow to like her – she just wished they’d have more than a month to get to know one another before rushing to the alter. It didn’t help that the person Luisa’s mind had automatically went to when her grandmother had been describing the ideal spouse wasn’t on the list – she was, in fact, the reason that the list needed to exist in the first place.

Luisa shook her head, and tried to banish thoughts of Rose from her mind. They weren’t helpful. Instead, she smiled up at her grandmother as the older woman said, ‘Excellent! I shall set up a meeting at her earliest convenience!’

* * *

 

As it turned out, Susanna’s earliest convenience had been a mere two days later. It didn’t give Luisa a lot of time to get used to the idea – yet here she was, dressed and ready for a stroll along the beach with her possible future wife.

Susanna was perfectly lovely – open and friendly, with a pretty smile and even prettier laugh. Luisa felt that under any other circumstances, they’d be able to talk to each other easily. However, in the present moment that was proving rather difficult due to the near constant presence of the paparazzi. The reporters kept a respectful distance – aware that it was potentially their future queen that they were stalking – but they were nevertheless present, and Luisa was uncomfortably aware that their long-range equipment may be able to pick up on what they were saying. It meant that conversation was largely limited to the superficial, or details about one another’s personalities that were widely known.

‘So,’ Luisa asked, her tone more than a little awkward, ‘Did you have any plans for what you wanted to do after the army, you know, before all of this,’ she gestured to herself and the area around her, ‘happened?’

‘Yeah,’ Susanna said, her expression brightening, ‘I did. You may laugh, but I’ve always wanted to be a police officer. A lot of my friends from the army joined the force right after they finished their deployment, and it sounded fantastic. Being out there, helping people – but without all the death and explosions – it’s what I really wanted to do.’ Her voice dropped then, and her smile dimmed. ‘But my parents didn’t approve. They claimed it wasn’t an appropriate career for someone of my social standing. They wanted me to marry up, and well – here I am.’ She tried to enthuse her voice with some of her earlier optimism, but it fell a little flat.

Luisa felt for the other woman – it seemed like she didn’t want to be here any more than Luisa did. At least it was one thing they had in common – though a mutual lack of interest in meeting one another probably wasn’t the strongest basis for a relationship, never mind a marriage.

Nevertheless, it seemed it was something they would both have to do.

After another hour of idle conversation, the wind began to pick up. Both women were wearing their hair long, and it was becoming difficult to maintain any impression of neatness. Luisa raised her hands up to her head and attempted to tie back her hair – but as she did so, her scarf became loose and was lifted off her body, carried away by the wind.

Luisa smiled and said to Susanna, ‘I better go get that. My grandmother is fond of buying me scarves that cost more than the monthly rent on my college apartment.’ She tore off after it then, without waiting for a response from the blonde.

Susanna laughed and followed Luisa, ‘You know, it isn’t very princess-ly of you to go running off after a scarf on a wet beach.’

Luisa smirked. ‘It isn’t very duchess-y of you to follow me, either.’ After a beat she says, ‘Last one to the scarf has to explain to my grandmother why there’s probably going to be pictures of us rolling around in wet sand?’

‘Deal.’

* * *

 

They spent a lot of time together in the proceeding days. They had a lot to learn about each other if they were to be married in under a month. Luisa discovered that she did genuinely like Susanna – she was funny, sweet, incredibly kind – and she felt that she could genuinely be friends with her. Trouble was – Luisa didn’t think she’d be able to feel anything other than friendship for the other woman. It wasn’t blonde locks she thought about before bed each night, but rather red ones that belonged to a person that she really ought not to be thinking about.

Especially as she walked arm in arm with Susanna, through a garden that was meant to be an incredibly romantic destination for couples. Luisa could see the appeal, were she with someone she was actually interested in. She thought it was the same for Susanna – the woman was friendly and jovial when they talked of normal, platonic subject, but when the conversation became in any way romantic, her body stiffened and her responses became perfunctory, as if they had been rehearsed.

Both women sat down on a bench in the centre of the garden. Susanna swallowed, as if nervous about something, and pulled an item out of her jacket pocket. Luisa glanced at it, and felt nerves coiling in her own stomach. It was a velvet box.

Susanna opened the box, and presented it to Luisa. Inside, there was a beautiful silver ring, topped by a sparkling diamond – tastefully sized. By all accounts, it was a perfect ring. Luisa felt sick. ‘So,’ Susanna said, unable to quite make her smile reach her eyes, ‘This ring belonged to my grandmother. She was married to my grandfather for over fifty years, and by all accounts, they were very happy. I had hoped that it may prove rather lucky for us.’ She took Luisa’s hand, and said, ‘Luisa Alver – I won’t use your full name, I know you aren’t too fond of it – will you marry me?’

Several feet away, Luisa noticed out of the corner of her eye that the cameras were going wild. This was going to be splashed over every form of media in Genovia – and may even make some international news sources. She forced a smile in place as she said, ‘Yes. Of course I will marry you.’

Susanna slid the ring onto Luisa’s finger, and both sat there awkwardly for a moment – both knew what they should do, but neither were particularly inclined to do it. Luisa settled the matter by pulling Susanna in for a hug. It looked suitably romantic to please the cameras, which is all they needed. Luisa smoothed Susanna’s hair back, and whispered ‘ _thank you_ ,’ into the other woman’s ear, quietly enough that only Susanna could hear it. Susanna put more energy into the hug, squeezing Luisa harder in a silent acknowledgement of her thanks.

* * *

 

‘Engaged,’ snarled Elena, a murderous expression on her face as she held a freshly-printed Genovian newspaper. ‘She’s _engaged_. This was never meant to happen. She wasn’t meant to play the Game. This endangers all of our plans.’

Rose sighed, but was not entirely surprised. Their conversation at the ball had not been long – and their subsequent interaction in the greeting chamber had been even shorter - but they had been long enough for her to realise how smart the other woman was, and see first-hand the strength of her endurance. She’d danced with every eligible bachelorette in the room, despite how uncomfortable she’d been with some of them. Rose knew that despite what tradition said, many young princes and princesses failed to do just that. And her reaction to their second meeting hadn’t exactly been one of a person who would lie down and take it as her crown was stolen from her. It was an attitude that Rose admired, even if it made it more difficult for her to carry out her plans.

‘What do you propose that we do? Surely we cannot allow this wedding to take place.’

Elena smiled viciously. ‘That, my dear, is where you come in. Luisa is far too modern to be happy with the idea of an arranged marriage – she must have doubts. Play to them – seduce her, show her what a real relationship is like.’

Rose smiled slowly, and said, ‘I think I can manage that.’ _And I might just have some fun while doing it._

* * *

 

Luisa sat on the stairs, trying to make her way through her book. Reading was an activity she’d always loved, but with the hectic nature of the past few weeks, she hadn’t had a lot of time for it.

‘What’s that you’re reading?’ Asked a voice from somewhere near her. Luisa looked up, and felt a flare of irritation – as well as something else she didn’t want to pay attention to – coil in her stomach.

‘It’s none of your business,’ she said shortly, slamming the book shut.

Rose peered at the cover anyway. ‘ _The Handmaid’s Tale_ ,’ she read, a note of mockery in her voice, ‘a book that shines a light on the damage that patriarchal structures do to society. Perchance,’ she said, her smile growing, ‘you’ve been thinking of the damage they’ve done to your own life? Perhaps – and correct me if I’m wrong – through an arranged marriage? Is it possible that our esteemed princess is having doubts about the noble Lady Barnett?’

Luisa frowned, standing up. She didn’t correct Rose’s guess – it was entirely accurate – but she also didn’t want to give the other woman the satisfaction of agreeing with her. ‘I just liked the TV series,’ she said, after a moment. ‘And if it’s all the same to you, I would rather read my book free from the distraction of people who lie about their identities.’

She made her way up the left side of the dual staircase, only for Rose to follow her on the right side, matching her almost step-by-step, a playful bounce in her walk. ‘I’m sorry,’ Luisa said, when it became clear that the woman had no intention of leaving, ‘but is there something you wanted to say to me?’

‘Not at all,’ said Rose, her smirk definite, ‘But – since you brought it up – we only danced for a minute. Did you expect me to recite my full family tree? It’s not something I tend to do when I first meet someone.’

Both had reached the top of the stairs by this point. ‘Perhaps,’ said Luisa, ‘It is something you should consider doing when you’re attempting to steal that person’s throne. Just for courtesy’s sake.’

Rose laughed. ‘Mmmmmm, like you were being courteous when you banged into me at the ball?’

Luisa smirked, moving in closer to the other woman. ‘At least you used the correct preposition this time. I think that’s what people call a Freudian slip?’

Rose also moved in closer – they were near enough to each other now to notice every detail on the other’s face. Luisa became uncomfortably aware of how close Rose’s lips were to her own – if this was _any_ other situation – if Rose was _any_ other person – she wouldn’t hesitate to close the remaining distance between them.

‘Perhaps I meant it. You’ll never know – unless you want to try and get it out of me. I’m sure you’d find a way.’ Rose bit her lip then, looking down very obviously at Luisa’s own.

They stayed in that position for several long moments, until voices from the opposite side of the corridor could be heard. That jarred Luisa back to her senses, and she pulled away. She retreated back to her suite, without sparing another glance at Rose.

This was dangerous – if someone had come and seen them looking at each other like that – god, if the _press_ heard – she’d be ruined. She couldn’t let herself do this.

But _god_ , was it tempting.

* * *

 

Luisa should have known it was going to be a disaster the moment she sat on the horse. She’d told her grandmother that she didn’t know how to ride side-saddle – barely knew how to ride normally – but the older woman had insisted that it would be fine, that the wooden leg would prevent her from having too many difficulties. Luisa had had her doubts even then, but she’d been so desperate to prove to her people that she wasn’t a complete failure after the throne room incident – she hadn’t _meant_ to embarrass the court by chasing the chicken, she just thought it would have been rude to let the man’s present escape – that she’d been willing to try anything that might salvage her reputation. But then that had blown up in her face, and now half the country thought that she had a wooden leg, the other just believed that she was a moron.

It wasn’t _fair_ – she was giving up so much to be their queen. Her chance at becoming a doctor, her home in the states, and now even her ability to choose when and to whom she would marry. But they wouldn’t give her an inch. She wouldn’t stop messing everything up.

Some days, she wondered if upholding her mother’s legacy was even worth it.

‘You shouldn’t hide, you know,’ said a voice coming from beside her. ‘It’ll only fan the flames. They’ll come up with whatever story they want in your absence.’

Luisa sighed. ‘What do you want, Rose? I’m not exactly in the best of moods.’

Rose’s expression softened. She didn’t like seeing the other woman like this – head hung, posture slumped. She looked like she’d already been defeated. Yes, it was Rose’s ultimate goal to steal the throne from her, so she should probably get used to the sight – but she couldn’t help how she felt. It was a dirty trick that Elena had pulled, one she hadn’t been on board with.

‘I came to see if you’re alright.’

Luisa looked up at that, her expression morphing into one of confusion. ‘Why?’

Rose shrugged. ‘You’re no fun to argue with like this. I need you at full strength if we are to resume our usual sparring matches.’

Luisa cracked a smile, and gave a short laugh. ‘You make an excellent point. But I think I just. . . need to wallow, for a bit. I promise that I’ll be back to my full strength tomorrow though, and then you’re going down.’

Rose chuckled. ‘We’ll see about that.’ She paused then. ‘But I look forward to it.’

* * *

 

Luisa had taken time to wallow that night, but she was rather proud of how she’d handled it. There was a time when her automatic reaction to a shitty day would have been to drown herself with alcohol, but instead she’d stuck to Jane and Petra like glue. The two of them were happy together – it hadn’t always been that way, they’d spent a good chunk of the last few years fighting over _Rafael_ of all people – but they were good now. It kind of gave Luisa hope, let her think that she’d have that with someone someday. Maybe even with Susanna – though perhaps she’d be able to find it with someone else. She doubted that the two of them would be particularly strict about fidelity, given their mutual lack of romantic interest in the other.

Anyway, the three of them had stayed up late watching dumb movies, and doing dramatic readings of Jane’s latest novel. Luisa felt better now, better than she had over the past couple of days, at least. She was sure Rose would be at this gala today – she always seemed to turn up at these types of things – and she was ready and rearing to stand toe to toe with her.

She’d appreciated the other woman’s words yesterday. They’d helped, and she hadn’t had to say them. It would have been so easy for her to tear Luisa down that day, to destroy whatever remnants of self-esteem she had left – but instead she’d decided to pick her up. She was grateful for it – but it didn’t mean she was going to stop fighting. At this point, she didn’t think that the redhead would want her to, even if it would guarantee her victory. She thrived on the chase too much.

Speaking of Rose, where was she? Luisa had been at the gala for over an hour now, and had yet to see hide nor hair of her. She asked Petra, who was seated beside her, in as casual tone as she could muster, ‘Have you seen Rose today?  Haven’t run into her yet.’

Petra narrowed her eyes. ‘Why? Surely her not being here is a good thing.’

Luisa shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. ‘You know the saying,’ she said, unconsciously imitating her grandmother’s words from days before, ‘Keep your friends close, and all that.’

Petra remained unconvinced, but cast her eyes around the gala. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘There she is, at the entrance. She’s got a woman on her arm.’

Luisa spun her head to look in the same direction as Petra. Sure enough, Rose was there, a petite brunette on her arm. The woman was very pretty, Luisa noticed with no small amount of distaste. ‘Oh,’ she said, something akin to jealousy in her voice, ‘I suppose we better go say hi.’ She turned to Susanna and said, ‘Coming, darling?’

* * *

 

Susanna introduced herself to Rose and Rose’s date – Elissa – with a pleasant smile. Rose, sensed an opportunity, and said, while looking Luisa directly in the eye, ‘It’s so nice to run into you – Elissa and I were just talking about Elissa’s latest achievement. She’s been offered the royal scholarship.’

Susanna congratulated the other woman, while Luisa felt a stab of jealousy hit her in the gut. Fine, this was the game they were playing? She’d go along with it.

‘That’s fantastic!’ She said, with a bright a smile as she could muster. ‘You know,’ she said, maintaining eye contact with Rose, ‘That Susanna has just finished her tour with the British military? She’s due to receive a medal of valour any day now.’

Rose smiled, stepping up her game. ‘Elissa recently raised over a million dollars for a charity that helps needy children back in the States.’

Luisa stepped closer to Rose. ‘Susanna once pulled five children out of a burning building in Iraq.’

Rose also moved forward. ‘Lady Elissa…’

‘Is trying to say something,’ interjected Luisa. She turned to the woman at Rose’s side. ‘Yes, Lady Elissa?’

Elissa smiled, and faced Susanna. ‘Susanna, would you like to go and get a drink? I believe they’re about to start a “my horse is bigger than your horse” thing.’

‘I would love to,’ the blonde said gratefully. The two women left, leaving Rose and Luisa to their game.

They were so absorbed in one another that they barely noticed their dates leave. ‘Thank you for yesterday,’ Luisa said softly, ‘But I’m back to my usual self, now. More than ready to take you on.’

Rose laughed. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ There was a lull in conversation for a moment, as both women pondered where to begin. After a beat, Rose said, ‘Fantastic party. You and Susanna make a lovely couple. It’s really a pity that you are not attracted to her.’

‘Yeah, it’s kind of a – WAIT.’ Rose walked away, still laughing. ‘Come back here,’ said Luisa furiously, pursuing her. ‘That came out wrong, I didn’t mean it that way – wait, Rose, where are you going?’

Rose kept walking, laughing as she did so. Luisa made it too easy, sometimes. She stopped when she reached the fountain, and waited for the other woman to catch up.

‘You know what?’ Said Luisa, panting slightly. The redhead walked _fast_ , damn it, and okay, maybe she needed to go to the gym more. ‘I really loath you sometimes.’ She stepped in closer to Rose.

Rose smirked, also moving in. ‘I loath you too, sweetheart.’

‘Yeah, well, I loathed you first.’ They were very close together now – just as close as they had been the other day in the corridor. And there was no one around to interrupt them – Rose had drawn her far enough away from the main body of guests to be sure of that. The reasons Luisa had so carefully constructed about exactly why being with Rose were thrown out the window as her desire took over.

And then they were kissing.

It was wild and passionate and intense and everything that Luisa had hoped it would be. The other woman’s lips seemed to fit perfectly against her own, and were even softer than she had fantasised about. She wanted to keep doing this forever, but no – she couldn’t. She shouldn’t.

Luisa pulled away abruptly. ‘We can’t do this. You’re…’ she breathed heavily, waiting for logic to return to her, to remind her why exactly this was such a terrible idea. ‘. . .You,’ she finished, rather lamely, once again transfixed by the other woman’s figure – the way that her hair had become just the slightest bit rumpled after Luisa had ran her hands through it, the way her lips had become the littlest bit swollen, the way her beautiful blue eyes had dilated. . . Luisa shook her head. ‘No. You’re you – you’re the woman who’s trying to steal my throne, who’s probably been plotting against me from the very beginning. I can’t do this. I’m engaged – if anyone saw –’ She cast an anxious glance around her, but there seemed to be no-one present. ‘If anyone saw, I’d be ruined. Of course,’ she said, as if the idea was only just occurring to her, ‘You probably want that.’

Rose shrugged. ‘I won’t deny that. You’re a smart woman, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. But,’ she said, smile growing wider, ‘It was _you_ who kissed _me_.’

Luisa shook her head, and moved to step away from Rose. Rose moved to block her path. Neither were sure what had happened next – if you asked them years later, they still wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly how it happened – but somehow, they both ended up falling in the fountain.

And then they were kissing _again_. It was an accident this time – she swears. But now they were both wet in more ways than one, and if they were going to have to walk back to the gala in this state and face the wrath of her grandmother _anyway_ , Luisa may as well get some _fun_ out of it.

It’d be the last time. She promises!

(So – coming as no great surprise – it turned out not to be the last time)

* * *

 

Luisa’s grandmother had not been happy to see Luisa and Rose emerging from the gardens, both of them soaking wet from head to toe. Luckily, most of the guests had gone home by that point and the rest were easily handled, but still – it could have turned into a major scandal. Clarisse had made sure to thoroughly scold her granddaughter – but Luisa felt far too satisfied with herself to pay any particular attention.

 Regardless, it was soon time for Luisa to engage in the latest royal activity – the Genovian Independence Day Parade. Luisa didn’t have much experience with parades – Pride being the exception, of course – never mind leading one, but she felt oddly confident. She couldn’t possibly lower the country’s opinion of her any further, right?

She sat in the royal car, dressed in one of the fanciest suits from her amazing wardrobe and wearing one of the lighter tiaras, and merely smiled and waved at the crowd. They seemed happy to see her – calling out her name, throwing flowers onto the path – Luisa smiled to herself when she realised that some of those flowers were roses – _oh_ , the irony. She couldn’t help but notice that the common people seemed genuinely happy to see her – perhaps it really was just the stuffy politicians that were set against her. Then again, it could just be the occasion.

Luisa frowned as the car made its way past a group of children – orphans, most likely. They were alone, without parents or seemingly any guardians to care for them. Two larger boys seemed to be making fun of a little girl, who was wearing a princess dress and had her hair tied up into pretty braids. Luisa remembered when she’d worn something similar.

‘Stop the car,’ she said, almost without thinking. The bemused driver did as his mistress indicated, much to the confusion of the rest of the crowd. She excited the vehicle, and made her way over to the children.

‘Hello,’ she said to the crowd of small bodies, ‘Are you enjoying Independence Day?’

They seemed shocked that she had come down to speak with them, but recovered quickly enough. They waved at her, and some eventually began to tell her brief tales of their exploits. Eventually, she turned to the girl at the back. She was sucking on her thumb, and had yet to speak. ‘And what is your name?’

The girl removed her thumb from her mouth, and said in a voice that was only a little louder than a whisper, ‘Carolina.’

Luisa smiled. ‘Hi, Carolina. It is very nice to meet you.’ The little girl smiled back – slowly and hesitantly, but it was a smile none the less. Luisa turned to the boys that had been picking on Carolina and said, in a voice that was a little more harsh, ‘Were you boys messing with Carolina?’

Both boys muttered something incoherent. Luisa did her best to sound stern, and said, ‘I think you boys should apologise to Carolina.’

They did as she asked, and Carolina’s smile became brighter. Luisa turned back to the younger girl, and said, ‘How would you like to be a princess for the day? How would you all like to be a princess for the day?’

All the children nodded enthusiastically. There was a man nearby who seemed to be selling plastic tiaras. Luisa flagged him down, and bought every single one of them. She handed them out to each orphan who wanted one, and said, ‘Are you ready to be princesses for the day?’

Luisa did not rejoin the royal procession, instead choosing to lead the gaggle of orphans as they marched in the parade. This was met with confusion by the general crowd – it was not the done thing, after all – but after a while, they began to come around and some even began applauding. Luisa didn’t really care about that, though, because the smiles on the children’s faces was worth it. As they marched beside the princess of Genovia, they themselves felt like princesses. It was kind of magical.

Rose watched this take place from her position in the crowd. Beside her, Elena muttered about how this was obviously a cheap, transparent political manoeuvre, but Rose didn’t think so. She thought it was kind of . . . cute, and obviously unplanned, since the royal officials seemed as confused as the general crowd. Rose didn’t like kids – they were loud and dirty and always seemed to make some kind of mess – but when they were with Luisa, they seemed. . . more bearable, anyway. And she was so good with them.

Where was this sudden well of sentiment coming from? Surely two kisses wasn’t enough to bring this out of her? God, she was pathetic. She needed to up her game, if she was going to win the sort of contest the two of them had.

But she was no longer completely sure that she even wanted to. If everything went according to plan, Luisa would need to leave the country, return to the States or any place that wasn’t Genovia. The thought of not seeing Luisa almost every day – of not arguing with her, of not kissing her – made something constrict within her heart.

But what other choice did she have? She was _going_ to be queen.

* * *

 

All in all, the preparations for her bridal shower were going rather well.  She was dreading the wedding itself – and knew that Susanna felt the same way – but thought that tonight might be an opportunity for a little bit of _fun_. She hadn’t had much of a chance for that lately – brief interlude in the fountain with Rose aside – which was _probably_ ill-advised – and so, she was looking forward to it.

‘So,’ said a low, sultry voice appearing from behind her, ‘Are you looking forward to the party? Your _bridal shower_?’

Luisa turned, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see the redhead. ‘I am, as a matter of fact. We’ve got some pretty great stuff planned. Remind me, what exactly are you doing here? Last I checked, you don’t live here.’

‘Yet,’ said Rose, a smirk on her face.

Luisa rolled her eyes. ‘That wasn’t an invitation. Answer the question, anyway.’

‘Fine,’ Rose exclaimed dramatically, as if the notion of telling the truth physically pained her. Her voice softened however, and she said, ‘You did a good job at the Parade yesterday. And I heard that you convinced Parliament to invest a lot of funds into a new children’s centre – it was a good move.’

Luisa preened – she _was_ proud of herself. After the Parade, she’d convened an emergency parliament meeting – her first one – and had managed to convince them to allocate a significant amount of money to the project. They hadn’t been willing to listen at first, but she’d held her ground – consciously mirroring both Rose and her grandmother – and it had paid off. Those kids would now have somewhere a hell of a lot better to sleep.

‘Thank you,’ she said, finding that she genuinely meant it. Somewhere along the way, Rose’s approval had become important to her. It was probably not a good thing. An idea struck her then – another potentially very bad one – but what the hell. ‘Would you like to come to my bridal shower? There’s going to be a lot of people there so you probably wouldn’t look too out of place.’ She smiled, a little ruefully. ‘It’s basically one big slumber party. And look – there are going to be a lot of foreign princesses there. If you do end up winning this thing, it’ll help you to have an in with them.’

The invitation surprised Rose, and made her more than a little suspicious. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Why would you want me to have that?’

Luisa looked Rose in the eye. ‘Because you really helped me the other day, after the horse incident. You didn’t have to. Now I’m returning the favour. And,’ she said, becoming more uncertain, ‘If you do win this, I don’t want you to have a difficult time with the nobility. Believe it or not, I care about this country, and want it to have a good ruler.’ The _I care about you_ went unspoken.

Rose nodded, accepting. She supposed that the other woman’s logic made sense, and she didn’t think that Luisa was the type to deceive her. ‘I guess I’ll see you there, then.’

‘Yeah, I’ll see you there.’

* * *

 

Rose had ended up being late for the party. Elena had grilled her for hours about the right way to integrate herself with the foreign princesses, and she’d only just been able to get away. She could tell right away that it wasn’t going to be that kind of party, however – there was no schmoozing around with fancy clothes and glasses of champagne. Instead, guests wore pajamas – Rose had gotten that memo, thank god – and milled about casually. She’d arrived just in time to catch the tail end of an activity called ‘mattress surfing’ which looked ridiculous – but admittedly, more than a little bit fun, too.

Luisa was in her element. Rose could see her talking with a wide variety of princesses, interacting with them seemingly effortlessly. She seemed to get on better with them when politics were off the table, when she could just be herself without worrying about the political consequences. Rose was the exact opposite – she was good at manoeuvring the political landmines, but put her in a situation where mundane small talk was required and she was completely adrift. Unfortunately, both were somewhat necessary to be a successful queen.

She didn’t get a chance to speak to Luisa until everyone else was asleep. The other woman caught her eye, noticing that she too was still awake, and beckoned her over to the enormous wardrobe – the only part of the suite not currently occupied to foreign princesses. Luisa closed the door using the remote, giving them some privacy.

‘I’m glad you came,’ she said, smiling at the redhead. Rose felt her stomach do a little jolt at the words.

Rose returned Luisa’s smile. ‘I am too. Your attempts at karaoke were very entertaining.’

Luisa punched Rose’s arm, and laughed. ‘Hey! I’ll have you know that I always on karaoke night in college.’

‘Mmmmm, and I’m guessing that that was after you’d been named as the heir to a European country.’

Luisa shrugged. ‘I guess the title has to be good for something. Other than forcing me into a marriage that I don’t want.’

‘If you don’t want it, you shouldn’t do it.’ Rose said, meaning her words in more ways than one.

Luisa shot her a mock glare. ‘Nice try. I’ve got to do it. You know that. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about my wedding tonight. That wasn’t why I called you back here.’

Rose raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh? And why was that?’

‘This.’ Luisa kissed Rose, harder and more passionately than she had thus far. Rose easily reciprocated the kiss – she should be delighted that the plan was working, that Luisa was being sufficiently distracted from her fiancée – but in that moment, the plan couldn’t be further from her mind. Luisa was all she could think about, when she managed coherent thought at all.

This time, it didn’t stop at a kiss.

It hadn’t been an ideal first time – it had been hurried, and they hadn’t been able to take as much time as they both would have liked. Plus, there were literally dozens of people asleep in the next room, so there was a pressure to be quiet. Discovery could ruin the both of them.

That had also been kind of exciting, though. Just a bit. Or maybe. . . a little more than a bit.

Rose turned to look at Luisa – beautiful, sated Luisa, who’d never looked more sexy than she had in that moment – and felt a rush of . . . _something_ , something that she couldn’t describe. It was like every little moment of affection she’d had for the other woman had somehow multiplied and hit her all at once. It felt. . . like love.

She sat upright, startled by the realisation. No, that couldn’t be right. That couldn’t be what was happening. It had to be some kind of mistake. There was no way she was in love with Luisa. She didn’t do love. It wasn’t part of the plan – could never be part of the plan.

‘What’s wrong?’ Asked Luisa, sleepiness tainting her voice.

Rose stared at her for another moment, hoping that the feelings would go away. They didn’t – in fact, when the other woman looked at her, eyes wide with concern, they only seemed to grow. She had to get out of here.

‘I- I have to go.’

* * *

 

Rose spent much of the next day brooding about her feelings about Luisa. She didn’t tell Elena about what had happened between the two of them – Elena would have insisted that they use it to strike the final blow to Luisa’s reputation. Once upon a time, Rose wouldn’t have hesitated to do just that.

She didn’t want to do that, now.

Because apparently, she was _in love_ with the other woman.

It wasn’t meant to be like this. It was meant to be a simple job – the foundations had already been laid, all she had to do was sway Luisa’s confidence enough that she stepped down as heir, or tarnish her reputation enough that the media did it for her. Falling in love had no place on that list, and yet. . .

It was all a mess. Rose had wanted to be Queen ever since she was a little girl. Most girls dreamed of being princesses, but that had never been enough for Rose. No, she’d wanted to be Queen. It was not a notion that she’d ever grown out of. Now, though – she was not even sure if she wanted to be Queen, at least not without Luisa by her side.

She sighed. All that could be done now was to move forward, and to see what the fates had in store for her.

It was time to go and see Luisa.

* * *

 

Luisa was getting married tomorrow.

And she’d spent the night fucking someone who was not her fiancée.

Try as she might, Luisa didn’t regret it. Not one second of it. She was in love with Rose – there was no point in denying it any longer.

But it still didn’t change anything – Luisa _had_ to get married, she _had_ to upkeep her family legacy. She wished it could be different – she wished that the law could be different, she wished that it had been Rose’s name on the list, she wished that none of this was happening.

Luisa was jarred out of her own thoughts by a strange, incessant tapping on her window. She walked over and laughed at the vision before here – Rose was standing at the ground level, hurling pebbles at the window in order to catch Luisa’s attention.

Luisa opened the window. ‘You know, there are easier ways to get my attention. This is all very nineties chick-flick, don’t you think? Are you going to start reciting Shakespeare?’

Rose blushed, but tried to cover it up with a smirk. She had had a few lines prepared. Not that she’d let the other woman know that, now. ‘You wish, Alver. Are you coming down, or do I have to start spouting nonsense about you letting down your long hair?’

‘Coming down for what?’ Luisa asked curiously.

Rose cocked her head to the side, her smirk widening. ‘It’s your last night of freedom. Don’t you want a little fun?’

Luisa should say no. Saying no would have been the smart thing to do. But of course, she didn’t.

* * *

 

The night ended up being kind of. . . magical. They got to actually spend time _together_ – there were no cameras, no people nearby, no reason for them to rush. They could talk to one another without filtering what they said, they could kiss each other without fear of interruption or discovery, and could lie together in silence without feeling pressured to move on.

They ended up playing a game – secret for a secret. Luisa would tell Rose a secret – usually something funny or light-hearted, but occasionally something heavier – and Rose would do the same in kind. They were learning rather a lot about one another.

‘Okay,’ laughed Rose, feeling lighter than she had in a long time, ‘There’s no way that you managed to accidentally artificially inseminate the wrong woman.’

Luisa nodded, a smile twisting across her own features. ‘Yep, I did. It was only a practice simulation in med-school – no actual sperm involved - but still. I failed that one. It all worked out for the better, though. It was actually how I met Jane – she volunteered to take part in the simulation to earn a little extra cash, and we’ve been friends ever since. She actually met Petra through me, and they’re really happy together now. Anyway,’ she said, pausing, ‘That’s enough of my humiliation for a minute. Your turn. Bet you can’t top that.’

Sensing an opportunity to spare herself the embarrassment in front of the woman she was kind of sort of in love with, she said, in a voice as low and sultry as she could manage, ‘I haven’t danced with you since your birthday.’

Luisa hit Rose on the arm, a gentle smile playing across her mouth. ‘That’s a fact, not a secret.’

Rose sighed, loudly and with great exaggeration. _Fine, I’ll be corny. This is all her fault_. ‘Secret is: I still want to.’

Luisa looked around her. ‘There isn’t any music.’

The redhead rolled her eyes. ‘It’s 2017. I have Spotify. Even Genovia has decent data now, you know.’

Luisa laughed, and took the other woman’s hand. They danced together, and it was both similar and different to the night that they met. It wasn’t a very co-ordinated number – more so standing very close together as they swayed to the rhythm, their eyes never leaving one another – but that same energy was there, the same sexual tension was bubbling beneath the surface.

This time, they acted on it.

* * *

 

It was nice to be able to wake up together, at the same time. The fact that Luisa was getting married today to a different person really should have cast a damper on the situation, but really – neither found themselves caring overly much. They’d take pleasure from the time that they had available to them.

As Luisa blinked her way to consciousness, however, she did notice something strange. There was a boat on the nearby river that hadn’t been there the night before, and she could have sworn that she just saw something move.

‘Rose,’ she whispered, nudging the woman who was still nestled under the blanket that they had luckily thought to bring, ‘Do you think there’s something. . . off, about that boat over there?’

The redhead sat up, blinking sleep out of her eyes. They hadn’t gotten many hours last night, being more occupied with other activities. ‘Hmmmm,’ she said, ‘It’s possible it could just be a fisherman.’ She doubted it, though. It was too much of a coincidence for a fisherman to appear in almost the same spot as them. ‘Still,’ she said, voice calm enough to not panic Luisa, ‘We should probably get dressed.’

It was at that moment that the man decided to re-emerge, camera in  hand. ‘Fuck,’ Luisa swore, ‘fuck. This is. . . this is not good.’ She scrambled to put her clothes on – while remaining under the blanket so that the possible pictures would hopefully be less damaging – it was a futile hope at this point, but still worth a try. She turned to Rose, something akin to fury in her eyes. ‘Did you have something to do with this?’

Rose hesitated. She hadn’t – her intentions for the night before had been purely hedonistic, and for once she hadn’t had the throne on her mind – but she had a feeling who might’ve. Elena.

The hesitation was all the proof that Luisa needed. ‘I can’t believe this. I can’t believe _you_ – I – you – I thought you cared about me. I thought you came to me last night because you wanted to be with me, but all you wanted was my throne. I should have known. I _should_ have known.’

Heartbreak and rage intermingled in Luisa’s voice. She lept from the covers – clothes finally on correctly – and got on the horse.

‘Luisa!’ Said Rose, words tinged with desperation, ‘Luisa! Wait! Please! Let me explain, it wasn’t me I had nothing to do with this – wait!’

But it was too late. Luisa took off, leaving Rose with no other alternative than to watch her go.

Anger began to well up in Rose, the kind of anger that burned white hot and would not be easily extinguished. She’d been happy, damn it. It hadn’t lasted very long, but she’d been really, truly happy for the first time in a long time. And Elena had ruined that.

Elena would pay.

* * *

 

Luisa returned to the palace, on horseback and with tears staining her cheeks, to find a flood of paparazzi already there. Joe – her grandmother’s steadfastly loyal head of security – was also waiting for her, and he ensured that the press were not given an opportunity to be too invasive, instead hurrying her straight into the palace.

Where her father, grandmother, Susanna, Jane and Petra were ready and waiting for her. _Oh_ , she thought suddenly, though not with as much emotion as she knew she should probably feel – she felt exhausted, and not able to give this the due consideration it probably deserved – _this isn’t good_. She hadn’t even realised that her father was flying out yesterday – it had been debatable whether he was going to be able to take the time off work, given that the wedding was such short notice – but of course he had, now that this had happened. Luisa saw the disappointment in his eyes, and felt immeasurably worse.

They all began speaking at once. It was too many voices, too many tones, for Luisa to register what any of them were saying. She caught only snippets, and those snippets were not good.

Finally, Susanna’s voice rose above the din. ‘Luisa, can I speak with you alone?’

Luisa figured she owed her that much, at least. She nodded mutely, and the two moved into a room to the side.

‘So, I’m not going to ask what happened, because I get that it really isn’t my business. I know you don’t – care for me – in the way that would probably be best for the situation that we’re in but,’ she took a breath, as if considering her words, ‘but I don’t care for you in that way, either. I need to ask, considering what’s just happened – do you still want to do this? Because once it’s done, there’s no turning back.’

What other choice did Luisa have? She’d thought for a moment last night that maybe she and Rose could – but no. No, that reporter had shown that all Rose cared for was the crown. Luisa wouldn’t let her have it, not if there was something she could do to stop it.

Luisa nodded. ‘Yes.’ She said, without a quiver in her voice, ‘Yes, I am. Let’s do this.’

* * *

 

Rose arrived back at her country château in a fury. Elena sat the TV, watching a gossip programme that was eagerly presenting the images from that morning, with a glass of wine in hand and a vicious smirk on her face. She turned when she saw Rose enter the room, and her smile widened. She tipped her glass in a salute. ‘Excellent job with the Princess. I wasn’t sure you had it you.’

Rose slapped her. It was a hard slap, and landed directly on the other woman’s cheek. She hoped it would bruise.

Elena grasped her cheek, and something dark appeared behind her eyes. ‘You ought to be thanking me, darling. I did you a favour.’

‘A favour?’ Said Rose, almost disbelieving. ‘ _You_ were the one who told the press where we’d be last night.’ Her tone was flat, as if stating a fact.

‘Of course I did. I couldn’t trust you do it on your own. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve come to care for the girl. It’s pathetic. We had an agreement – I was just making sure that you honour it.’

Rose was so furious that she could barely speak, never mind think. There were some truths that she was absolutely certain of, however. One was that Elena would _pay_. She threw herself forward, clasping her hands around the other woman’s throat. It was not enough force to kill – Rose knew that she would not get away with that, in the long run – but it was enough to keep her still and quiet.

‘You’re an idiot,’ she said, poison lacing her every word, ‘The wedding is still going to go ahead. Luisa is stronger than you think, and your stunt only turned her more against me. If you’d left it alone, she could’ve –’ Rose left that thought hanging. _She could’ve married me_. But that couldn’t happen now – or, wait. . . maybe it could, maybe if she got there in time, explained to Luisa what had happened, maybe she’d give her another chance. Maybe Rose could be queen and have Luisa at the same time.

Elena saw the idea form in Rose’s mind and smirked, regardless of the fact that Rose’s hand was still at her throat. ‘I  - know – what you are – thinking,’ she said, in between gasps, ‘But – it’s – too late. You’ll never – get there – in time. And it – serves you right.’

Rose let go of Elena’s throat, and settled on punching her instead. It felt good, but she needed to focus her energies on the problem that Elena had presented. It was true – the wedding started in thirty minutes, and she had no way of getting to the cathedral. The car had broken down the other day and was still in the shop, and she doubted that her horse could take another journey after her frantic rush home. Unless. . . her eyes settled on the penny-farthing displayed on the wall. It had once belonged to her grandfather, and had been a functioning bike. . . it’d do.

* * *

 

Luisa stood outside the grand cathedral, in potentially the most uncomfortable dress she’d ever worn, and tried to focus on her breathing. Her corset – and who even wore a corset, in this day and age – was so tight that it was a more difficult job that you would imagine.

It was probably for the best, because it kept her from delving too deeply into the thoughts swirling around her mind – thoughts of Rose, of Susanna, of the life she was giving up and the life she was going to have.

But even focusing on her breathing wasn’t enough to keep those thoughts from rearing their ugly heads. She needed to talk to someone – anyone – and distract herself. Joe! Joe would be standing at the other side of those doors.

She peaked her head in, and almost immediately regretted it – the cathedral was packed with people, all waiting for _her wedding_ to begin. She felt vaguely nauseous, but then a calm, measured voice from somewhere near her said, ‘Is everything alright, Princess?’

‘Yeah,’ said Luisa, not very convincingly. ‘I’m just. . . sorry you’re retiring. And for all the trouble I’ve caused over the past few days.’

He looked at her with sympathy. ‘Thank you for that, your highness. And sometimes, the heart does things for reasons that reason cannot understand.’

Luisa looked to the floor. ‘Yeah, I feel that.’

Joe hesitated then, as if he was unsure whether or not he should be telling her this. ‘Luisa – you should know, Rose did not set you up last night. The fault lies entirely with her stepmother.’

Luisa felt like her entire world had just been upended for the second time in twenty-four hours. Rose hadn’t planted that reporter? But then. . . that meant – that meant that Rose had meant everything. That her feelings had been real. She looked into the church, hoping to catch sight of the redhead, only to be disappointed. Perhaps the other woman had given up? But. . . that didn’t seem like something she would do.

A palace official came to the door and told Luisa that they were ready for her. Luisa moved forward as if on autopilot, her mind busy churning over the details of what she had just heard. Everyone in the church turned to look at her with wonder on their faces – though some tittered amongst themselves, likely discussing this morning’s scandal – but Luisa could not absorb any of it. She reached the top of the aisle, but could barely pay attention to the Bishop’s words.

Suddenly, she was remembering the words her mother had spoken to her, long ago – “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the belief that something is more important than fear.” When she’d first thought back on it, that day in the gallery room, she thought that it meant duty, that duty was the thing more important than fear. But that wasn’t it at all – Luisa’s mother had run _away_ from duty. She’d come to the states to follow her heart, she’d come for _love_. It was love that was more important than fear, more important than duty.

And Luisa loves Rose.

‘Does anyone present here today have any reason why these women may not be married?’

Luisa stepped forward. ‘I do.’

A gasp rippled across the crowd. This was only compounded by the doors slamming open moments later and a familiar red-headed figure strolling through it. ‘And so do I.’

Luisa took Susanna to one side while the priest was stuttering about the irregularity of this turn of events. She took her hand, ‘I’m sorry, Susanna. I can’t do this. It isn’t what I want, and I’m not content to sacrifice my happiness for the sake of my country any longer. Not when I can have both. I know you needed this marriage to appease your family, but you shouldn’t have to. Go be a cop, do whatever you want to do. I’ll make sure that it happens.’

Susanna smiled, tears of both joy and relief appearing in her eyes. ‘Thank, Luisa, Thank you.’ They hugged then, much to the confusion of both the crowd and the priest.

‘So. . .’ he said, ‘I take it that there will be no wedding? That you forfeit your crown?’

Luisa shook her head. ‘No. I’m not going to do that either.’ She turned to Rose, who had made her way up the aisle in the time that it had taken Luisa to say her piece to Susanna. She still wore the same clothes from last night, and appeared beautifully dishevelled, as if she’d just run a marathon.

‘Rose,’ Luisa asked, nerves appearing for the first time since she’d had her realisation, ‘Will you marry me and sit on the throne of Genovia at my side?’

Rose smiled. This had worked out better than she could have ever hoped. ‘I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion, but yes. Yes, I will marry you.’

The crowd seemed to finally grasp what was happening, and burst into applause – it was tentative at first, but became louder and louder until it was enough to echo throughout the high ceilings of the cathedral.

It certainly was not a turn of events that they had been anticipating, but the people seemed happy for their princess.

* * *

 

Amazingly, marriage seemed to work out for them. The news of their shock wedding had scandalised the newspapers enough that it had blown the princess-sleeps-with-someone-who-is-not-her-fiancée-on-the-eve-of-her-wedding story way out of the water. Some had even found it romantic.

The two had been crowned together in a joint ceremony – it had been Luisa whom had insisted that Rose take the crown matrimonial. Oh, Rose hadn’t complained or done anything to dissuade the notion, but Luisa had realised something – if she had a competent monarch at her side with the same executive powers as she herself had, then there was no reason why she had to be in the country 24/7 – she’d be able to finish her medical residency, become a fully-licenced doctor.

She’d go on to do that, and after a couple of years, it wouldn’t be an uncommon sight to see the Queen of Genovia helping out in the local public hospital.

Rose and Luisa enjoyed a long and successful reign – it had taken a Parliament a long to time to come to terms with its new Queens, but they succeeded in winning them over eventually – Rose by using threats and her razor-sharp wit, and Luisa with her charm and equally keen mind. The kingdom prospered under their leadership, flung quickly into the modern age. Both women ensured that more women were appointed to Parliament, and that the law requiring a female monarch to marry before she took the throne was abolished. That law had worked out well for the two of them, but that was no guarantee that it would for subsequent generations.

All in all, their ending came pretty damn close to happily ever after.


End file.
